Draco's Tale
by DavidD
Summary: PG for violence. This is my first story, so hope you like it. Its about Draco (duh) and a review to my poem DRACO gave me the idea. Enjoy and R/R! Also thanks to those who have reviewed before!
1. Default Chapter Title

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DRACO'S TALE

Disclaimer: All the Harry Potter information belongs to J.K Rowling. 

Author's Note: I recently wrote a poem called Draco, and got some great responses. (Thanks to all who have reviewed my stories!!!) One asked me to write a story like the poem. So here it is. Feel free to review with suggestions! ENJOY!!!!

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CHAPTER 1

Shattered Dreams 

Draco sat bolt upright in bed. He had been having an awful dream, a dream about his father slapping his mother. She had told him to stop, but he refused to listen. The screams, oh the awful screams….

"_Draco, hurry son! Get out quickly!"_

"No! Don't try it Draco, you will remember this forever!" Lucius said in his evil whisper.

He lifted up Narcissa's head by her hair. She spat in his face, and he bellowed like a bear. He slapped her face hard, she grimaced but did not give him her tears. That was what he wanted, he wanted to be in control. She wouldn't let him. 

Lucius kicked her, she still didn't cry. He spat on her back and threw wine on her face, and punched her in the face. She closed her eyes and prayed to God for mercy. Lucius laughed as he pulled her hair, "I am your God! Bow before me slave!"

Draco saw his mother's brilliant blue eyes glimmer in the light; they had not faded from the years of abuse she had undergone. He closed his eyes against the sight of the blood that poured from Narcissa's forehead, where the bottle had smashed against it. Then she finally gave in to the pain and wept. She screamed in pain, mostly from the pain in her soul. Draco heard his father as though from a distance. He heard him get the scissors and slice off Narcissa's beautiful golden locks. They fell like diamonds in the glimmering lights. 

Then all was fading…fading…fading…

Draco shook his head. That was nothing more than a dream. His father and mother would be downstairs laughing at the latest news from the paper. Everything would be fine, and breakfast would be ready. Warm eggs with bacon. He smiled at this thought. He hadn't had eggs and bacon in ages. 

He walked over to the basin, and wiped his face with his hands, and smoothed his hair. His pajamas had once been decorated with teddy bears, but his father had bought him blood-red robes. He smiled at memories of that earlier time when his father had been single. Lucius hadn't been around then. He had spent his time with his grandparents, and they had loved him.

Then Narcissa married Lucius, and his grandparents had moved to America. That's when it all began. Narcissa had loved Lucius, but now her love was waning and Draco was forced to watch the brutal beatings. He shuddered for a moment before turning on his heel and heading downstairs. He smelled the sweet smell of the eggs and bacon and rushed down the spiral staircase. Visions of a happy morning filled his head.

He ran quickly down the hall, and finally reached the high archway that led into the kitchen. He turned and walked in, he saw his father reading the Daily Prophet over some coffee. His mother had her back turned to him as she bustled over making the eggs, and bacon. Narcissa didn't use magic much, she preferred cooking like a Muggle. Her parents had both been Muggles, and she had learned to cook from them. The fresh aroma hit Draco's nose. He smiled as he sat down on a seat of the long table across from his dad.

Lucius didn't nod or give any other indication that he saw that his son had entered the room. He merely mumbled something about the Ministry bungling another job, and turned the page. Lucius was wearing Dark black robes; they were the same hue as Hogwarts robes, yet seemed darker somehow. Maybe it was the evil energy that emanated from Lucius, or maybe it was the fact that he never smiled. Draco averted his gaze away from his gloomy father to his mother.

She seemed angelic in her silver lined white robes. A beam of light cascaded from the high stained glass windows, and bathed her in rosy hues. She seemed not so much to walk, as to float like she was on top of a cloud. Her cooking had been honed for many years, and she knew many secrets of both Muggle and wizardly cooking. She could have become the Minister's head cook, but she preferred to not feel obligated to her cooking. She felt it was an art.

The eggs stopped sizzling, as did the bacon. She had also cooked potatoes, but Draco didn't like them. He saw Narcissa slowly placing the food onto the silver platter. She did this deliberately, as a way to tease Draco. It had been a long time since she had made eggs. They were her specialty. She finally got all the food on and turned around.

Draco shuddered at the sight of her face. It was beautiful, but there was a gaping cut in the forehead, and bruises all along the cheeks. Her eyes were puffy and red, and were almost devoid of the hope that had once glittered far within them. Lucius took more from her every day. Worst of all, however, was the large chunk of hair missing from her head.

Draco's dreams of a happy family were shattered then, as they were every morning. Try as he might to put the pieces back together, they only fell further apart. Every morning he would hope that it had all been a dream. Every morning his infantile hope was shattered once more by the harsh reality. His mother was a slave, and he was too. They could do nothing against Lucius, for he had much respect in the magical world. So he beat Narcissa, almost daily. Draco remembered how Lucius held his head still, forcing him to look at the suffering on Narcissa's face.

Once Draco had tried to stand up to Lucius. On his 13th birthday, Draco had not been allowed to have friends over. His father said this was a mark of weakness. So Draco had entered his father's dark study. The study that held the secrets of the Dark Arts. Draco had entered this study and challenged his father. He told him to leave Narcissa alone. He had pointed his wand at Lucius and yelled _"Expelliarmus!" _His father had dodged the disarming blast easily. Then he had pointed his wand at Draco, and yelled _"CRUCIATUS!" _Draco felt the sizzling pain, he didn't know how long. When he felt the pain stop, it was dark outside through the windows…

Draco was brought back from the past by a clatter as the eggs, and bacon was laid on his plate. He smiled at his mom, and she smiled back. She even managed a weary wink, as she served Lucius his food. She was about to sit, and eat the remaining food when Lucius slapped her to the floor. He sent the plate flying to the ground, at his feet. He pulled Narcissa by the hair and forced her to eat off the floor. She obeyed, as he knew she would. Draco stared at the grim scene. He hurriedly finished his meal and ran to his room.

He cried in his sanctuary. The pain of this was too great. Potter never went threw this… thought Draco. He didn't even have to know his parents; he just has fond memories of them. Draco felt the fire of rage building in his heart; he fed it, as he had learned how. His rage was the only thing that could burn away the sorrow that pierced his heart. He stayed there angry, fuming about all this pain that his damned father caused. He lazily looked at a spider crawling across the floor.

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"Crucio!" he spoke. A jet of white-hot pain struck the insect. The insect had to feel the pain that he had felt. He finally let go and the insect lay there, twitching. Is that my fate, he wondered, am I to be a chew-toy for father here, a pariah at school, and after all this pain become no more than a twitching indolent? "I, the great Draco Malfoy will not let this happen. Nothing will prevent me from becoming great. Nothing," said Draco in his strangely melodic voice. Many girls would die for the sound of that voice, the sight of the ice blonde hair. Perhaps some would in Draco's life.

The rage he was feeling filled him with its intense visions of power. He could have killed during those moments of rage. He would kill in those moments of rage. His rage, thought to be his ally was instead a harsh master. Harsher even then Lucius. Draco subsided into his earliest memory. This always was the climactic conclusion to his bouts of rage…

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…Draco sat in his garden of magic and life. Here he was safe here he could not be harmed by his father. He heard his grandmother's voice calling out to him. He ran eagerly over to her. She scooped him up and held him. They were happy in the garden of light and magic. Here alone could they be happy. 

His grandmother set him down and told him to run, and he listened thinking it was a game. There was a flash of light and a scream of pain. Draco still ran until they abated. He stopped and waited for a long time for his grandmother to come, when she didn't he ran back to where he had left her. She was nowhere to be found. All he found was her amulet of a heart, which he placed around his neck. His grandmother had left him.

Just then he saw a butterfly and held out his hand, The delicate creature landed and tickled his hand. Draco squeezed his hand shut, squashing the fragile creature. It had to feel the pain that he felt. Every creature had to feel this pain. This torment, that he felt…

Draco lay in his bed torn between the conflict within his soul. On one side the love that Narcissa had given him. She loved him, even though she was his stepmother. He smiled with this thought. Then he thought of his real mother, his grandparents. They too had loved me.

He turned to the rage. Lucius was beating Narcissa, killing her soul. He had murdered his grandmother in Draco's presence. He had dueled Draco's grandfather and killed him through the Dark Arts. His mother had dared oppose him. He had killed her for daring to defy his dominion. Now he was slowly killing the little love in Draco's heart. Draco's hate awakened. 

Draco had a choice. Love on one side and hate on the other. Which would he choose? He reached beneath his clothes and withdrew a heart shaped amulet. It pulsed and throbbed, it gave him advice. He thought it was his grandmother's soul, and he treasured it more than anything else. He listened to the voice of the heart, the voice of his own heart. He waited long before he found his answer.

"I will make my father pay for all he has done, pay for it all. He must die, he will die!" said Draco to himself. His hearts were set, he banished the loving thoughts he felt, they hindered his hatred.

Everything must feel my pain, he thought. He smiled and closed his eyes. Unbeknownst to him the crystal heart glowed softly, in satisfaction.

Author's Note: A little short, but it just gives you a feel for Draco, and his family situation. R/R!


	2. Default Chapter Title

Author's Note: I know that it has been a long time since the last installment, but I've been very busy with school. Thanks to all who reviewed the last one and sorry for the delay.  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
The Departure of the Soul  
Draco sat up on the bed with a slow motion. His movement was languid, like a cat. He arose and walked toward the mirror. His hair was wild and erratic, his midnight black and red clothes glinted in the light of the morning sun streaming through the high stained glass windows. His mouth twisted into its familiar sneer. He appeared calm, and collected. However, his insides were in turmoil.  
The calm fa‡ade was a shield that protected him from others, his shield of resentment. Inside his insides screamed with the torment of what they had ten minutes ago resolved to do. They twisted at the thought of abandoning love forever, abandoning the love he felt for his mother. Love is a mere distraction, he thought, why should I feel it, it only hinders my hatred. My love for her must be banished so that my rage against my father can be fueled. Yet something inside told him his logic made no sense. His rage was due to his love, his love for those who his father was hurting. He banished these thoughts as mere annoyances. His plan was perfect, there were no flaws, none.  
As he looked into the mirror, he reached inside his shirt and withdrew his precious amulet. As he thought the stone pulsed and throbbed methodically. It spoke as it always did.  
Your rage is the result of your father being cruel and dominating you, you don't love anyone... all you can feel is this hate, this blessed hate...  
He nodded once and placed the amulet beneath his clothes. It pulsed rhythmically with the beating of his heart, strengthening his resolution. With a firm heart he tore his gaze from the mirror that, though it reflected him, could never see the depths of his tortured soul. He walked back to his suitcase, made of dragon hide.   
He quickly reviewed everything so he didn't forget. He touched his Remembrall and it told him he wasn't forgetting anything. He quickly pointed at a silver bell hanging on the wall. Almost instantly a black claden servant appeared.  
"Lift my bag, peon," said Draco. The servants had been off yesterday, and thus his mother could cook. His father would only allow her to cook in the Muggle way whenever the servants were gone, and only after a tremendous beating. The cooking lifted her hopes, and then he could crush them again...   
Fortunately, the servant had just turned around then and didn't see the tear running down Draco's face. Draco hurriedly wiped it away and listened to the whispers of his amulet. Once more in control, he walked resolutely down the stairs.  
He entered the corridor and didn't even look at the beautiful friezes, or frescoes that decorated the walls. He walked until he came to the door that led to the atrium. He hesitated to get his emotions in check, and then turned the knobs and opened the door.  
His mind was preparing for the beautiful red and white flowers that decorated the room in their end of summer bloom. He gasped as he looked at his mother cutting a rose off its stem, she had already cut twelve and they sat in a clay pot on the gleaming marble table. As she turned around and saw Draco standing there. She smiled her soft muted smile.  
"Draco, are you leaving already? I sure hope you have fun at Hogwarts this year, sweetie!" said Narcissa calmly.  
"Yes, mother I will. What are you doing to the roses?" replied Draco.  
"This is the time every year where I cut off a rose for each year that your father married me," she said, " then I place them in a pot and boil them. Thien I perform a little spell that creates pure rose essence. I then repeat the names of the two people who must love each other. After that I pour onto a statue of the goddess of love, Aphrodite. This is supposed to make love exist forever between two people."  
"It hasn't worked," Draco said softly.  
"I can always hope..." said Narcissa with a faraway look. Then she gripped Draco's hand firmly, " You must never forsake love Draco, never. Swear to me that you will never forsake love!"  
"I swear mother, I swear," said Draco gently. His mind was in turmoil once again, and he could not keep this promise. He felt hurt that he had betrayed his mother, but he banished that feeling. She wasn't even his real mother...  
"Good, Draco. Now farewell, you must hurry off to learn. I give you my blessing. Take this," she pulled off an ivory necklace and handed it to Draco. "Remember me."  
Draco nodded, said farewell and left the atrium. He held the amulet tightly in his fist. His mother's words rang loud in head once and then faded away. He walked down the corridor and took the door that led to the entrance hall. He walked out the front door, and saw his things packed on top of the limousine.  
He climbed in the back. He told his driver took the quickest route to the King's Cross. As the car sped down roads, Draco's thoughts were troubled. He had just sworn to remember love forever, and he had promised himself he would forget love. He felt as though his insides would be ripped apart. Finally he made his decision. He took the amulet from his clenched fist and placed it deep within his carry-on bag. He would remember only one love, his mother. That was it, he would hate all else.  
He felt his soul at ease once more and he felt calm as the scenery flashed by rapidly...  
  
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Meanwhile Narcissa sat in the atrium, pondering her situation. She too had resolved to do something, and now she would keep this promise. She slowly whispered two names over the essence that sat before her. She smiled at the thought of what she was about to do. She poured the essence over the blessed statue. It shimmered as the magic worked. She smiled.  
She lifted the cutting tool as she stood before the statue and touched the end, it pierced her and she gasped at the pain. She looked at the picture of Draco that she had painted near the statue. She hoped he would feel her love forever.  
She held the blade up high and smiled her soft, sad smile. She whispered softly a single word: Love. Then she gripped it firmly with both hands, and she whispered to Draco softly, as she had when he was a child of three. Draco, the love that is in you is strong, stronger than the hate that your father gave you. You must make the choice Draco, make it right. Then she bid him farewell and she swung the knife down, deep into her stomach, she cried out. She lifted high and stabbed once more.  
She drew her last breath and smiled at the memories of her and Draco. She fell then, and her blood mingled with the rose essence. She lay there peacefully. Finally after all these years she had escaped from Lucius. She had escaped from the pain, the torment. Her soul for the first time, was set free.  
  



End file.
